


Inlaws v. Outlaws

by ImaniJoain



Series: Unlikely Singularities [19]
Category: Captain America, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-27 12:15:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13248030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaniJoain/pseuds/ImaniJoain
Summary: Family isn't just people who share DNA, it's also the people chosen. The people that live and fight and survive together. The ties that bind.It's also sometimes the people who share DNA.*Set 11/3/2016 - 11/14/2016





	1. One Nickle

**November 3, 2016**

 

It had been a long day. Steve had been on edge all morning waiting for the expected call from Stark. And then the punk had been quiet and thoughtful afterward, his withdrawn mood putting a crawl on the back of Barnes’ neck and the urge to check the perimeter itching in his feet. Natalia’s video call had settled Steve down some, although that was mostly the promise of as much food as she and Wanda could carry. But there had been something in her voice that wasn’t said, in the pauses that weren’t there, that had forced Barnes up to the roof to get some air before the women were supposed to arrive.

_Get some air and keep an eye on every approach to the building._ At least he allowed his rifle to lean against his chair, instead of clutching it in his lap. Wilson had followed him up with beer and the hot tea Barnes liked and a second crappy lawn chair. He didn’t say anything about the gun, just passed over the drink and sipped his own in silence for a good half hour.

“Would you want to see them? If you have family still out there?”

Wilson’s question was soft and easy, spoken without wavering or any weight to it. He might as well have asked if Barnes wanted chicken or beef tacos, or if he had ever considered watching soccer instead of baseball. It came at him out of the blue, shaking him from the hyper-awareness that had his muscles tense and his adrenaline on edge. Did he want that? His mother was pregnant when he got the draft notice. Da said it was a miracle – shouldn’t have happened at their age and with the other babies she had lost. Only one brother had lived past birth, and he died before he could walk – influenza. Becca had been seventeen when Barnes left for Europe. She might have married. Might have had kids, grandkids, great-grandchildren that kept on living and working and laughing and being free while he was being twisted into the Winter Soldier.

“I don’t...they shouldn’t have to see what I became.” The acknowledgment left an empty place low in his belly. A wound seared by acid and still festering even after he admitted it. What he was...he could...live with himself. But no one else should have to accept it. Steve, Wilson, Wanda – the Avengers had chosen him, but family didn’t get a choice and what he was now shouldn’t be forced on anyone. Barnes took a long sip of tea. It was dark and Russian and bitter and sweet with sugar. It both reminded him of the small good things in the darkness and gave him something to fill his mouth so no other words would fall out.

“You’re not done, you know.” Wilson propped his feet up on the edge of the roof, staring out at the rough neighborhood that surrounded their hideout. The sun was beginning to set, washing the worn buildings and dangerous alleys with an orange-pink light that softened the flaws. He took another pull of his beer, but didn’t face Barnes.

“None of us are,” he continued. “We don’t _become_. We’re becom _ing_. It’s a process man. And it don’t ever stop ‘til you do. As long as you’re still stubborn enough to keep breathing, you’re still changing. Still becoming.”

Barnes thought about that as the sun slipped below the horizon and the California evening began to feel cool. Sitting on a roof, enjoying a drink and the sunset – it was so much better than he ever thought he would have again. Steve was safe and healthy downstairs. No one was actively trying to kill him. He had a team that would watch his back. His mind was his own. Wilson finished his beer, but still sat in his shitty lawn chair, picking at the label.

“This the part where you tell me the ugly duckling was really a swan the whole time?”

Wilson snorted. “Swan. Let’s be realistic, here. With that train wreck you call a face? Mallard, tops.”

“Ladies seemed to like it.”

“You’re remembering it wrong.”

“Museum in DC says otherwise. Books, movies. That miniseries Lang made us watch. The girl who turned you down flat at that bakery in Sofia.” Wilson snorted. Barnes took another sip. “Yeah. Pretty sure they find me attractive.”

“That ain’t attraction, Barnes. That’s pity.”

Barnes shoved him, not hard enough to knock him over, but enough to make him drop his legs to stay upright. Wilson laughed and called him weak and old. Barnes scowled, asked Wilson how pathetic it was to lose in a footrace against weak old men like him and Steve.

But he was thinking that a mallard was pretty good.


	2. Bounty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is no slouch, but everyone has moments of self-doubt. We should all be able to shake it off so quickly.

**November 4, 2016**

“I apologize for being late.”

Darcy lowered her menu to take in the last member of their lunch party. Evelyn Vivas, Pepper’s new doctor, slid into her chair between Pepper and Darcy. It was an extreme effort for Darcy to not sigh out loud, sandwiched as she was between to thin beauties. _This is unfair._ She took a long sip of iced tea to cover mild irritation. It wasn’t that Darcy thought she was ugly or fat – far from it. But she had flaws like everyone else and didn’t particularly enjoy knowing she was compared to whomever was standing next to her and found lacking. Societal expectations were a real bitch.

Jane was her best friend, and although she attracted gorgeous blonde hunks like sorority sisters to a ½ price design-your-own-t-shirt sale, her big-eyed pixie beauty was balanced by wearing ten-year old sweaters and jeans purchased from the youth boys department. Natasha was a real-world ninja princess, but Darcy didn’t have so much low self-esteem around her as she did the glee of the high school AV Club at Comic Con. Wanda – what Darcy had seen of her on tv, was the scariest, most ethereal titiana ever. Pepper was an elfin goddess, and anyone would feel intimidated by those classic looks and elegance, but she was _Pepper Potts_. So. Point made. Darcy had come to terms with the fact that despite generous assets, nice skin, and fucking unparalleled skills with eyeliner, her best day equated Natasha with a head cold.

But this was going too far. One more woman added to the elite Avengers in-the-know, which was long over due and spoke volumes to the inherit misogyny in the system, and Darcy had to forcibly remind herself how awesome she was. Dr. Vivas, emphasis on the doctor, was a goddamn cover model. Five eight or nine, thick blonde hair, skin that probably bronzed beautifully in the summer and was kissed golden even as winter was approaching. She had legs out to there and an ass that Darcy couldn’t have replicated with daily, hour-long squat sessions. Not that she was ever going to do that. Vanity was one thing, waking up early was another. And Vivas had great shoes. Metallic blue heels with an open toe and blackened-steel spike. Darcy would have overbalanced and fallen onto her tits in those shoes.

_Pixie, ninja princess, dreamy wraith witch, elfin goddess, and now an amazon. It’s official, I’m in a fantasy RPG._ She smirked at the thought. _All hail the skald._

“My transmission gave out. I had to take the bus from my meeting.” Vivas flipped open her own menu and glanced down.

Darcy reconsidered. Anyone who had to deal with car trouble could be forgiven glutes of steel. Plus, she was helping Pepper – and that gave her like, a zillion points in Darcy’s book.

“It’s no problem,” Pepper smiled. “We only got our drinks a few minutes ago. But let me introduce my friend, Darcy Lewis. She knows everything about me,” Pepper nodded pointedly. “And she works with Tony. Darcy, Evelyn Vivas.”

“Please – don’t hold that against me.” Darcy held out her hand.

“I won’t.” The doctor took her hand in a firm shake and lifted one eyebrow and said with a straight face. “But I’m sure Tony would like to.” Pepper inhaled her water and had to cough into a napkin. Darcy’s mouth fell open. “And please, call me Evie.”

“Oh. OH. I think we’re going to be friends.” Darcy nodded, seeing the potential stretching before her. Tony would be surrounded by women who could alternately kick his ass and verbally put him in his place. In some cases, both. It would be _glorious_. “Bestest friends. Are you cool with that? Doesn’t matter, I’ll win you over. I have oodles of charm. Charm and administrator access to Tony’s calendar. And his snack fridge. Please tell me he needs a new diet. Something with more fish oil. And, and, um,” Darcy snapped her fingers, “raw hot peppers. Yeah. This is amazing. How do you feel about Mexican?”

Pepper snorted again. Vivas blinked. “The food, or the ethnic group?”

“The food. Well, I mean, the ethnic group too, I guess. But that _is_ ethnicity in America, right? Food and swear words you can say in public and crazy festivals with alcohol. Personally, I’m mostly Jewish – which does have charoset and matzah and gribenes – and basic British melting pot – talk about frying and boiling. Like – everything. But Hebrew swears are great, and nobody does gin like the Brits. So it could be worse. My friend Eric is Swedish. Have you ever had ludefisk? Don’t. Just don’t.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Ms. Lewis.”

The waitress arrived and refilled drinks while she waited for their order. The day was looking up. There was nothing that could beat ladies with a sense of humor and eating on SI’s dime. Darcy picked up her menu again.

“It’s just Darcy. Awesome. FYI, I’m getting dessert. And I am not going to the gym later. No shaming.”

“Darcy-” Pepper began, a wide smile on her mouth.

Darcy leveled a finger at the CEO. “Shut. It. Those who ignore the laws of calories and cellulite do not get to chime in here.” She eyed Evie closely. “You in?”

“I take it our future epic friendship is contingent upon this?”

“Duh.”

Evie turned to the waitress. “Then I’d like the hot mocha caramel souffle and the avocado mango fish tacos. Extra pico please.”

“Damn. You play to win. I like it.” Darcy grinned. Yeah, she was constantly surrounded by beautiful, intelligent women who made her subconsciously worry about love handles and humanities degrees. But she was also surrounded by funny, loyal, kick ass women who made her feel like the future was going to be amazing.

Once the waitress had disappeared, Pepper asked after Evie’s work and Darcy was fascinated by the discussion of research agreements and medical regulations. Apparently, Evie’s former employer was seriously headhunting her – despite several very firm ‘no thank you’s’ and assurances that she was committed to Stark Industries.

“So they just keep soliciting you? With that same lame offer?”

“Yes, although they have gotten desperate enough to tell me the name of the proprietary project they want me on, _Scion_ , but even if I was willing to sign their ridiculous contract, I already have an NDA and limited non-compete with SI.” Evie waved her hand away, frowning deeply. “To be honest, after their legal counsel for HR showed up at the hospital while I was on shift, I’ve been so irritated I wouldn’t resign even if I didn’t have any prospects.”

“We’d be happy to provide you with references now, Evie. If that would be helpful. Should you decide to leave SI, I wouldn’t want you to have to deal with Root again.” Pepper paused as the server brought their food. “In fact,” she began again once they were alone, only to be interrupted by the beeping of her phone. Darcy’s vibrated with an incoming text immediately after.

_Space Ace isn’t answering my calls._

There was another buzz before Darcy could put it back in her purse.

_Does she have a phone?_

_Does she use it?_

_She doesn’t use it._

_She’s not picking up._

_I’ll just go there._

The messages were coming so quickly her phone was a constant quiver. Pepper was thumbing through her own phone and muttering to herself.

_Does she have any radio array access?_

_Just checked, nothing on file._

_What about connections at the Deep Space Network?_

_Someone who owes a favor?_

_Bribes?_

_Blackmail material?_

“Pepper?” Darcy looked up, and met the older woman’s long-suffering gaze.

“I’ve got this. You had that conference call with him yesterday. You deserve a break.” Luckily, their table was in a secluded alcove of the restaurant. Pepper stood and turned away to be polite, but no one else would be able to hear her conversation. Darcy was more than willing to accept Pepper’s offer to tag team; Tony was a riot and a genius, but there was only so much she could take before she snapped and flash-welded him into his own suit. Why Tony thought it was funny to insist on a conference call with the Captain’s group in LA, then immediately fly her to that same city to meet with potential financial backers, was a mystery to Darcy. But some things weren’t worth discussing. Like why Fig Newtons had a suggested serving size of two. It was weird and dumb, but not that important.

“Is everything alright?” Evie questioned. Darcy rolled her eyes and savagely cut into her club sandwich.

“Who knows? It could be that Tony needs help picking out a tie clip – or he could be booby trapping his secret moon base.” At Evie’s raised eyebrows, she clarified, “Probably not. He’s been looking for someone and exhausted all the usual options. Social media, traffic cameras, satellite imagery, drones. Himalayan mountain guides. I think he’s decided space is- goddammit,” she swore as she lifted the toast on her lunch. “I specifically asked for no mayo. Yuck. God, who the hell eats this stuff? It’s a crime against both humanity and eggs. Disgusting.”

“I’m sure the waitress-”

“No. _Eugh_. Thanks, but don’t bother. Seeing it there, all white and gloopy, infecting perfectly good bread and cheese with its vinegar based hell has turned me off food.”

“What about dessert?”

Darcy sent a concerned look over her glasses. “Evie. Sweetie. That’s not food. That’s mana from heaven.” She carefully covered her sandwich with a napkin so she wouldn’t have to look at it and pulled up her calendar app on her phone. “Okay, so you wanted to see Tony how many times? Is there anyway you can come to New York? Frankly, I can only trick him so often before he gets wise and has Jarvis lock me out of his private floors.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help it; Tony's funny even when he's not on stage.


	3. Around the Water Cooler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to hold myself back - but I couldn't resist more Nat and Wanda.

**November 14, 2016**

 

“D- Ms. Lewis has made all the arrangements. We just have to get there and she promised Tony would have someplace ready for us to stay while we attend the meetings. It’s- I don’t know how to thank her, Nat. I’m going to get their lives back.” Steve’s voice was quickly taking on that hard edge that dared anyone to try standing in his way. Nat repressed a sigh. She had preferred the admiring, interested tone he used when he complimented Darcy. She kept one eye on Wanda who was picking up their order of sweet treats and tea and used her peripheral vision to sweep the little shop again. The sunny day had most of the patrons taking their food outside, leaving Nat with more than enough room to feel comfortable.

“And once that’s done, Ross is next. I won’t stand by anymore, Nat. For what he’s done he-”

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, Steve.” Her mild comment brought him up short, and she could almost see the way he held his breath and closed his eyes, working to get his composure. Wanda subtly popped the pale-green apricot daifuku into her mouth. Nat narrowed her eyes. Apricot was her favorite, and from Wanda’s too-innocent expression she knew it.

“I know. I just...”

Across the ocean, through her phone, and Steve could still turn on the pleading act like no one she knew. It was puzzling for her. When he was trying, he couldn’t manage it to save his life, but when he didn’t mean to the man could tug on heartstrings she was certain had been cut decades ago.

“This could fix it. I need-” abruptly, he cut himself off. “Buck’s agreed to go with me to the meeting. Ms. Lewis said I should bring at least one other person with me, to show that all of us who broke with the Accords are in agreement. He’s not excited about seeing Tony, but he’ll do it. And I know that we can make this right. Once we sit down face-to-face-”

Natasha only listened with half an ear. This was what Darcy had been warning her about. Three emails, two cryptic and laughably vague voicemails and a handful of texts. She was certain the newest resident of Stark Tower had gotten that number from Laura, and was interested to find out how. Nat had been busy with Wanda and a few dozen Malaysian human traffickers, so she hadn’t responded yet. Steve’s revelation certainly pushed things into a new category of urgency.

The Winter Soldier and Tony Stark in the same room. Only Steve could begin to think that might end well.

Natasha held her phone between her shoulder and ear and pulled her tablet through her purse. She thumbed through the decrypted, passive-aggressive messages from Tony. With the other hand she took a skewer of dango from the tray as Wanda sat down.

_Cary: Going to grace us with your presence at work today?_

_Cary: If you’ve found someone else, let me down easy. You know how jealous I get._

_Cary: Bring me some mochi._

“-wanted to,” Steve was saying. “But I told him those guys wouldn’t all fit in the new safe house. Do you think-”

“Is this Steve?” Wanda asked pointing to the phone with cornstarch dusted fingers.

Clint had sent a text as well.

_FarmerBrown: The chicken is in the pot._

_FarmerBrown: It never gets old watching Sherwood stammer._

_FarmerBrown: Can’t wait for reunion. Like antebellum porn._

Natasha quirked an eyebrow and offered her the phone. “Ask him about Stark’s new assistant.” Wanda quirked her own eyebrow but took the phone and complied. From across the tiny table Nat could hear Steve’s soft reprimand and a hint of sigh.

“She’s not an assistant. Ms. Lewis is -”

Natasha scrolled through the last message from Darcy.

_575-555-0001: Do not let him do this. It could ruin everything. Only you can endure Mr. Righteous and Mr. Sarcastic at the same time._

She hadn’t thought her presence would be helpful at the upcoming talks in Canada. The Russians would be attending, and they still felt there was unfinished business with the top graduate of the Red Room. The Chinese would be there, and the delegate they were likely to attend still thought she was a geisha who was killed in an act of passion. And her relationship with Canada was...complicated.

Natasha knew there would be more than enough tension between Tony and Steve without her getting into the mix. She had been relying on Steve’s interest in Darcy and Darcy’s almost eerie connection with Tony to keep things civil. Or better than civil. Non-violent. If Steve was insistent on bringing Barnes into the mix – and Steve was nothing if not pig-headed – then Darcy might not be able to handle things alone. Natasha had tremendous respect for the young woman, but everyone had their limits.

Almost everyone.

“Wanda. Please tell our friend to go for a run. It will relieve stress. And that I have ordered him new clothes. He will wear them.” Wanda grinned and relayed the message while Natasha sent a group message to one of her resources and did another visual security sweep.

_FedEx bringing sample. Find out everything._

The reply only took a few minutes. Impressive, given the time difference.

_Dave: On it, boss._

_Kurt: Konechno._

_Luis: Anything for you, ninja lady. I’m real tight with the delivery guy. He and my abuela’s cousin were in a band together, back before they crossed the border, they opened once for Cream, and… (1/23)._

“He said to thank you for the clothes, but that he can shop for himself.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “Barely.”

“It is better to know these things and simply take care of them.” Natasha took back her phone and put it and her tablet away, reaching for another dango.

“You don’t know everything, _lysytsya_.” Wanda checked her tea to see if it was steeped. “Maybe someday someone will surprise you.” She reached for another daifuku.

“You have apricot filling on your cheek.” Natasha sipped her tea while Wanda sputtered and tried to wipe away non-existent evidence of confectionery theft. A convertible driven by a young Japanese man, traditional tattoos revealed by his folded back sleeves and the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, pulled up outside. “Get a to go box. And a dozen matcha mochi. Our ride is here.”


End file.
